Resonant Frequency: Chapter One
Holy wow. I wasn’t expecting the wonderful response I’ve gotten so far. You have all been so kind, so accepting, and I’m honored for the attention. Thank you all so much for your feedback and excitement. You’ve made me happy beyond words.
…well. Not too far beyond words. Because I have lots of those. Namely: the first chapter of Resonant Frequency for all of you to enjoy. It’s 3,130 words long, so make sure you’ve got time!
Tagging those who’ve interacted with/otherwise enjoyed previous excerpts: @aschenink, @taz-writes, @cog-writes, @oheoo, @folatefangirl, @toboldlywrite, @starlitesymphony, @raiswanson, @nonsensicalwritings, @homesteadhorner, and @brynwrites.
Warnings for violence, blood, and the beginning of an eldritch horror.
And now, without further ado…
Lightning flared, just long enough for the Gestori to see the footprints and blood splatters their subject had left behind. He was headed southwest, away from Caldera Lake. Through rough gorse and tangled bushes, crushing thorns and berries alike beneath his feet as he ran higher into the mountains.
Two Gestori rushed to the nearest patch of blood. In the moonlight it shone iridescent, slick with the glow. Rain pattered off their nanoweave body armor, leaving their bodies dry, their hands free to dip into the fallen liquid. As one, the Gestori squad snapped on the night-vision in the lenses affixed to their eyes. Their minds linked together feather-light, a gentle touch laid upon the others’ thoughts with enough presence to share images and sensations.
All of them saw the same thing at once through the link. Their subject’s blood was not red, as theirs was. Rather it glinted black as machine oil, and just as viscous. It was not warm and never had been. Even through the curtain of rain-driven scents, fresh and earthy, none of the Gestori could smell it.
As though it was not even there. Or should not have been.
Several Gestori shuddered, their fear sending white-hot ripples into the others’ minds. The few who ignored it sent back their own confidence. The emotions mixed, churning in each Gestor’s guts like cold grease, until they reached a tentative equilibrium.
Where? asked three.
Fan, replied two. You – you – you. Pincer.
Catch, they all agreed. Contain.
I always have to rewrite many times before I get decriptions anywhere near as good as this.